


Greatness

by Caitlin (archetypically)



Category: Gattaca (1997)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archetypically/pseuds/Caitlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Eugene didn't really know what made him do it."  A look into Eugene's thoughts on his situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greatness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ignaz Wisdom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ignaz+Wisdom).



> I saw this film for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and found Eugene to be one of its most intriguing characters. I didn't go quite as slashy as the original prompt requested, and I hope that's okay. Happy Yuletide! :)

Eugene didn't really know what made him do it. He had felt lost and worthless since the accident, hell, since _before_ the accident, yet this seemed to be a rather extreme solution to his physical and psychological torment. But it was a way. The only way.

_Disappointment. Wasted potential._ That's what they all said. The great Jerome Eugene Morrow, the very culmination of designer genetics, the perfect physical specimen, with so much promise and expectation bestowed upon him, was only second-best. Second-best would never be good enough.

It was a tall order to live up to, this so-called greatness. His life had been full of nothing but lofty expectations. He hated every moment of it, resented everyone who put him on some kind of ridiculous pedestal simply because of biology. Society was obsessed with, _expected_, success. He would never deliver.

Though he swore he'd take the secret with him to the grave, he threw himself in front of that car completely intentionally. The doctors shook their heads in sadness and avoided the eyes of his family as they explained that he was paralyzed from the waist down, and would never regain the use of his legs. Jerome Eugene Morrow would never walk, much less swim, again. No one expected anything anymore.

The first thing he felt was a sick satisfaction at his own disability, a rebellion against the society that sought to build him up and then mercilessly tear him down. He made his best attempts to ignore that fleeting pang of guilt every time someone looked upon him with the gaze of anguished sadness and disappointment. Eventually, unable to take it anymore, he cut off all contact with his family, and moved into a condo with a location he never disclosed to anyone. But in some way, he felt free, free of all the burdens that he had carried ever since he could remember, free for the first time in his life.

It was a temporary solution to a permanent problem.

As the days dragged on into weeks, and then months, and then years, he grew to hate his condition. The echoes of the worthlessness he felt beforehand now only intensified with his frustration at his inability to do things for himself. Those designer genetics, that perfect biology, would never achieve the success that people so desired.

And so he stumbled upon an idea. If he wasn't going to use his coveted identity, why not give it to someone else who wanted it? He felt it was the least he could do, to justify being given these gifts he could no longer take advantage of. Those dark feelings he had struggled with for so long started to lift slightly at the thought.

Time passed, and he received no offers. He was about to give up on the whole crazy plan when one finally surfaced in the form of Vincent Freeman, a starry-eyed young man with dreams of making it through the ranks of Gattaca to travel into space. A laughably impossible dream for an Invalid. It was almost too ridiculous to be real.

Yet when Eugene met Vincent, or should he say _Jerome_ now, for the first time, there were things that were immediately apparent. Here was a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He could sense that quiet yet powerful determination emanating from every inch of his body. He could see it in his eyes, in the way that his jaw was set, in the way that he carried himself as he walked. It filled him completely, this vital energy, an intoxicating breath of life, and made him feel more alive than he'd felt in years. It gave him a sense of renewed purpose, of worth, a feeling that he knew he never wanted to do without again.

In that moment, it was clear. This was a man who was worthy of his identity in ways he never could have been.

In exchange for his identity, Eugene would embrace this man's hopes and dreams as his own. For the first time, fate had played its cards right. For the first time, Jerome Morrow would rise to greatness. It seemed like more than a fair deal.


End file.
